ALIRA

Prologue

Death. The end of all things.

The pulsing of a heart and the beating of a wing.
The silence of a rock and the stroking of a fin.

All things cease. As they come and so they are gone.

The seasons pass. The days, and the nights.

Born in spring only to die in winter, a young shoot grown old and tired, rots in the earth, in death's embrace and food for the worms.
Yet new life springs from it. The cycle death resumed.

So is life lived only for death?
Or is there new life, breathing after death?

We shall never know. Not while we’re alive, perhaps as we have been alive before.

For our truth and maybe past, lies in the unknown places, never ventured nor explored. Always feared for fear of the unknown.

But worry not, for death will come, and come for us all.